The Losing Side
by MaterialisingSun
Summary: Ana once knew a wise man named Sherlock Holmes, he said that Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. But Ana knew this wise man well, well enough to know that the sentence was a protection for himself that only she could break, one step at a time. (Sherlock/OC)
1. Chapter 1: That Was Then

Her fingers hovered over the keys of her laptop staring at the web page indefinitely. Eventually, she started to think about the words she could develop in seconds if her mind permitted it. Blogs were never really her thing, it was always... His. She opted for the fictional stories over the overwhelmingly real ones.

But it had been almost ten years, this was the only sure fire way to get his attention without going through twelve levels of the British government and his brother. Would he even care? Would he see her name in his blog's notifications and disregard her as just another mysterious case out to get his attention?

The man in question just so happened to be Sherlock Holmes the uprising sleuthing detective who just so happens to be the childhood friend of Ana Williams.

Most people wouldn't describe Sherlock as their friend, more likely opting for the term acquaintance or colleague. But Ana Williams held an advantage, she was smart, witty and somehow managed to meet Sherlock when he was ten years old.

 _Ana was eight years old at the time of the introduction so her memories were a bit hazy. The curly hair of the mini detective was the first detail she noticed, followed by his permanent scowl resulted by complete boredom. There must not be many thrilling cases_ for _a child of that age beyond 'Who stole my lunch money.'_

 _She didn't run his way like many of the other children who wanted his attention would, instead, she took her time like she was plotting out what she was going to say. Ana made eye contact with him immediately as if silently begging him to wait for her. It was like she knew he wanted to get to the library before his lunch break was over._

 _Seeing him sitting alone with books by his side all portraying murder mysteries made her feel uneasy. As she got closer, she began to notice a little book of_ scribblings _. "Wrong!" and "Idiots!" boldly written all over the page, along with notes_ of _how the detectives in the books missed so many key elements that could have changed the outcome. She approached him from behind, but as she was about to speak..._

 _"No." Sherlock audibly spoke without turning. The girl shut her mouth partly in confusion and partly in bewilderment._

 _"I'm sorry?"_

 _Sherlock turns around and looks her in the eye. Ana could feel his eyes scanning her as if he were some kind of machine._

 _"You're a sweet girl who hides behind a faint but cheesy smile, although faked, you play it off fairly decent. Judging from your jumper and how it's abnormally oversized and worn, I'd say it's a hand-me-down from a sibling who had previously_ went _to this school. But even with that being said, the indication of your messy collar and uneven braids commonly mean that they must not pay much attention to you."_

 _Ana fidgets in her spot, trying her best to fix her collar._

 _"But…"_

 _"I understand your reasoning of coming to me, Ms. Bailey has told you about how she insists students with obviously higher IQ's to be student mentors or 'big brothers' shall I say to my very much uneducated and, in your case,younger peers. So in light of this situation, No, I will not be your 'big brother' who helps you read the big kid books."_

 _Alas, Ana was used to being underestimated, so she pulled the 'big kid book' out of her bag and flicked through the pages to show him the solved activities throughout. With Sherlock obviously impressed, she began to talk to him with a bit more confidence._

 _"Some of the kids here." She paused after placing the book back in her bag, happy with the amount of evidence she had shown of her knowledge. "They say you know things."_

 _"Do they? What an achievement for them."_

 _Ignoring his remark, Ana continued "You've made Miss Bailey cry because of her husband."_

 _"It wasn't her husband it was her boyfriend and it was obvious he was cheating on her. Her 'new' necklace was clearly second hand, a cheap knockoff made to make his suspicious jealous girlfriends feel special."_

 _Clearly, the meaning of this was lost on the eight-year-old, but she understood enough to know he was smart. Extremely smart. "You figure out things better than anyone else in school!"_

 _"Again you state the obvious. Never mind. I'm bored now, Goodbye." There was still ten minutes before their lunch break would finish but none of that mattered to the now clearly irritated and rushly packing Sherlock Holmes._

 _"Wait" Ana grabbed his coat sleeve in a panic, desperate to gain back his attention. "Someone in school stole a very important document from my backpack."_

 _Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "Document? What a big kid word. Go on…"_

 _"My teacher gave me a consent form to have my mother fill out and I gave it to her last night with important instructions to put it in my bag for school." Ana tipped her books out of her bag as delicately as a four-year-old would pour building blocks onto the floor. "I can't find it anywhere!"_

 _The urgency in her voice triggered Sherlock to understand the emergency in its entirety. It didn't take a genius to know exactly what was going on, but the young girl still stood there waiting for him to speak._

 _"You've been admitted to skip two grades, this would require a parent meeting with the school principal and your teachers but your mother isn't interested in meeting anyone to discuss your education. They sent you home with a consent form but somewhere between home and your first class, that consent form mysteriously disappeared. Your mother didn't want to hear about you advancing in classes so you spun a story about a school trip hoping she would buy the chance to get you out of her hair. Are you sure it was in your bag when you left?"_

 _The frown on the small girl's face answered the question in a heartbeat. "Although there is a 9 percent chance that the consent form was stolen, I suggest you look in your waste bin at home for the torn up form. Goodbye." He tried to walk away but had somehow forgotten the small girl still had hold of his coat sleeve._

 _"I would suggest acquiring a new consent form and finding the nearest responsible figure to sign it for you." Again he tried to leave believing she would now be content with the information he had given her, but Ana seemed incredibly strong for someone who was two years younger._

 _"Can you help me?"_

 _They throw the term 'hooked' around occasionally, but almost instantaneously, Sherlock turned around and said "Let's go." as he led her through the halls._

 _This was the first time Sherlock met someone who didn't call him strange or a freak. She didn't run the other way crying when he started speaking and that in itself was enough._

 _It was like he had found the first human being worth paying attention too._

Turning her attention back to the web page a sigh escaped her lips when Ana realizes that there was still a blank screen in front of her. What could she say? What could she possibly say that would merit his attention?

How about 'hey Sherlz remember me? The big jerk who followed you around for years?'

A frown graced her lips for a millisecond before her frantic typing began.

 _Dear Sherlock, it's Ana..._

 _I know! I know you never wanted me to contact you again but you need to listen. In less than 24 hours I will be kidnapped. The police won't listen to me, hell even Mycroft won't listen to me but I know you are the one person who will..._

 _Save me Sherlz, you're my only hope._


	2. Chapter 2: You Were My Now

Ana would never admit she was wrong. She would admit she was embarrassed, sure. But wrong? Pride is actually a skill held closely to her heart and no amount of false facts could change that!

Not even when her supposed immediate kidnapping never occurred.

Twelve days had passed since her frantic message to Sherlock, yet nothing had happened. There were no mysterious kidnappings, no phone call from her old friend. Just life, boring stereotypical life. Her normal every day job, normal every day discussions with work colleagues. Excluding one small exception.

A letter, delivered to her doorstep daily every morning before first light. Or she assumed before first light as no matter how many times she tried to catch the mysterious delivery person on her doorstep the letter always beat her there.

Ana always hated cameras, the thought of her image captured in one was enough to chill her to the bone, but begrudgingly she could be talked into a picture or two on a good day. So when someone delivered an envelope with a dozen photos taken of herself without her own knowledge or consent, you could expect a slight overreaction.

"Would you like a refill?" Someone asks, causing Ana to almost jump out of her seat. On second glance there seems to be no villain out for her blood, instead there is only a meek waiter seeming more concerned about Ana's reaction than the coffee she made him spill out of her surprise.

"Oh! I'm so sorry I…" The waiter doesn't seem to hear her apologies, instead opting for walking away rudely. Thinking things through, Ana is struck with the thought that maybe the waiter is her tormentor. Now that she has annoyed him, she can expect dead rats on her doorstep amongst several other items.

Ana began to wonder what Sherlock would think of her right now.

He'd probably figure she was scared purely by the fact she was sitting inside a cafe. This is less because of his skills and more him knowing her as a person. Sitting in a public place alone, surrounded by rich old ladies gossiping about their neighbours isn't exactly the ideal place for a person to think. But such a public place would definitely deter possible kidnappers, especially when the person potentially being kidnapped lives alone. She can't help but find it funny though, ten years had passed since the fateful day she lost her best friend yet she can still hear him making deductions about her like he's sitting in the seat next to her.

As more time passes, Ana is stricken by fatigue due to the past couple of days of an unorganized sleep schedule. She quietly puts her head into her arms, letting her mind drift to a distant memory between her and Sherlock.

 _Imagine that one bathroom scene where the girl is taking a_ shower then _all of a sudden someone opens up the shower curtain and begins stabbing the girl with a knife._ Yeah that's kinda _how Ana felt the last time she saw Sherlock._

 _Jumping into the shower, she decides to keep the door open for once so the steam doesn't fog up the mirror. Suddenly she hears noises in the bathroom._

 _"Hello? Is that you, Mum?" Ana called_ out but _with no reply._

 _After shrugging off the sound, she continues her cleanse before the shower curtain bursts open revealing a curly haired teenager. Ana turns her back to the_ teen _and starts to scream her head off._

 _"_ Hey do _you have - stop screaming, it's only me - do you have any paper I could borrow? I need it for my notes."_

 _She turns her head around to reveal the face of a seventeen year old Sherlock obviously not paying attention to the fact that she is completely naked. Ana grabs the towel hanging from the shower curtain rail, wraps it around herself, turns around and slaps the teenage boy straight across his face._

 _"Excuse me! I am indecent at the moment and you just barge in here like some kind of serial killer! Who in the bloody hell do you think you are!?"_

 _Grabbing his throbbing cheek, Sherlock closes the curtain and shouts "Fair enough! I'll just go find it myself! If you need me, I'll be in your room!"_

 _Exasperated, Ana finishes up her bath, gets dressed in pajamas and puts her hair up in a towel. As she enters her room, she is greeted by an overly eager Sherlock waiting at her desk with another case file._

 _"Oh isn't this a dream. Imagine the gossip this could spread, a seventeen year old boy in my bedroom." Collapsing next to Sherlock in a spare seat at her desk, the younger Ana flicked his arm playfully. "Isn't it a shame that the illusion is ruined by the guy being more interested in the case file in front of him."_

 _"An easy one, I thought perhaps you would want to try this case alone." It astounds her every time how he can stay so focused on his work but still give her his attention._

 _"We've tried this before Sherlz, I'm good with people and helping with the leg work, but actually solving the cases?"_

 _"Why not? Contrary to your own belief you possess an inquisitive mind with more than enough capability to solve a simple crime."_

 _Picking up the file begrudgingly Ana drags her eyes over the first page. Taking in the details of what Sherlock believed to be a 'simple' crime._

 _"How on earth did you manage to get a cold case from the police station? Isn't that in itself a crime?"_

 _She half expected him to say 'it's only a crime if you get caught' but instead he studied her reaction thoughtfully like he was analysing her thought process._

 _"This is the Taylor Charlton case, the rich family with the daughter that was kidnapped three years ago. You call that simple? There were policeman scouring the streets for weeks after she disappeared." Ana frowns in confusion, he thinks this is simple?_

 _"Just read the facts and tell me if you can come to any conclusions. I find it astounding how your little mind works."_

 _"I'd prefer beautiful mind or even logical, but I suppose that's a long shot." Sighing at Sherlock as he raises one eyebrow, Ana takes a more dedicated look at the pages before her. "Huh… That's weird. Amongst the horror of their daughter being kidnapped two items were stolen from her stepmother's bedroom. A $50,000 dollar diamond necklace and Taylor's favorite lipstick collection that her step mother confiscated after she snuck out one night."_

 _Sherlock excitedly flattens his palm on the desk and leans toward her. "interesting isn't it? Was enough to keep me occupied for the morning announcements today."_

 _"Sherlock the morning announcements last four minutes on an exciting day."_

 _"Exactly."_

 _Of course he would assume a cold case he solved in four minutes was suitable for her. Closing her eyes she tried to envision such a scenario._

 _Opening one eye she mutters "Do you have the answer to question five?"_

 _"Concentrate Ana."_

 _Unknown to Sherlock, Ana's sister Victoria had mentioned Taylor before, apparently they were in a art class together where the girl would complain about her unfair step mum ruining her life._

 _"Why would a kidnapper take a lipstick collection? It makes no sense. The necklace, sure it's worth thousands but used lipstick? The only reason I would steal a lipstick collection was if it was mine." A smile spreads across Sherlock's face as Ana begins to form a theory. "So why would a kidnapper only after the Charltons daughter take... Wait, you think she stole the items and made it look like she was kidnapped?"_

 _"A logical thought, but she was a 15 year old there's no way she could get away with a diamond necklace and make it alone in the 'big wide world'. Judging from the fact she stole her lipstick collection back she was very focused on herself, it's not likely she thought the missing personal item may cause suspicion. With this taken into account we can assume there was another person with enough reasoning to steal the necklace as a way to pay their way or mask the missing lipstick. The kidnapper was in fact an accomplice to the runaway, someone close to Taylor, making the kidnappers Taylor and an 18 year old boyfriend."_

 _There's something hilarious about hearing the very serious Sherlock Holmes say the word lipstick, so much so Ana has to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing._

 _"You're laughing at me again"_

 _"I'm not laughing at you I'm… appreciating your mental prowess with… uh…"_

 _"Laughter?"_

 _Now entirely serious, Ana takes a deep breath so she can ask the real question on her mind. "What is this about Sherlz? This is the third case you've tested my skills this week."_

 _She notices shock on his face followed by worry adding to her idea that something bigger is afoot._

 _"You think I'm testing you? I value your input deeply without it I-"_

 _"Cut to the chase Sherlock, what is it really about?"_

 _Maybe it's her serious face or mildly aggravated look but he resigns himself to tell her. "Over the past few weeks I have noticed you_ _h_ _ave_ _slowly started to distance yourself from me. I am aware that sometimes you feel inadequate when solving cases by my side, so I wanted to demonstrate your worth to me as a companion."_

 _Ana feels herself going bright red, her pulse quickening. Of course he would misidentify her feelings. Because when it came to Sherlock Holmes the first thought of her staying away from him would logically be a decreased sense of self worth and not the teenage crush on him she could not rid herself of._

 _Sherlock Holmes does not do relationships, he told her that the day they met after he forged her mother's signature on a copied consent form, and now she found herself wishing that he did. Of course to a eight year old, no relationships meant friends. Now it means so much more._

 _"Sherlz… I don't think I'm useless. I love solving cases with you no matter if I know what's going on or not." Averting her gaze she hops out of her chair and skips across the room to expectedly brush her hair, the perfect excuse to look away from him. "By the way… someone at school has a mystery for you that nobody can figure out. We should head to his house tomorrow."_

 _Glancing at his shocked expression in the mirror she knew he had figured it all out. Whether it was her dilated pupils, or her rush to hide her red face he now knew._

 _But he is Sherlock Holmes so instead of addressing this fact he plastered a knowing smile on his face and closed the solved case file. Already turning his mind onto the next._


	3. Chapter 3: Isn't It Crazy

Almost as graceful as a swan, in walked a dapper looking fellow clad up in his pinstripe suit.

The posh gentleman stopped to assess the cafe, appreciating all of the delicacies laid out along the countertop for just a moment. Then looked at his pocket watch as if in a sort of rush, closing it, he proceeded towards the same table of the sleeping Ana. The gentleman, walking with a cane in hand, removes his suit jacket, drapes it freely on the chair opposite of Ana and places the cane beside him as he sits.

"Well, you have certainly lowered your values when it comes to accommodation." Speaking loud enough for Ana to spring alive in her seat.

There is something entirely surreal and startling about dreaming of someone and then waking up to hear a familiar posh voice. Putting her hands on her face before looking at the gentleman, Ana soon realises that the familiar voice did not belong to the younger Holmes, but in fact belonged to his older brother.

"Mycroft… How-"

"How did I find you? It was simple really. As you requested, I've made sure there was always someone keeping an eye on you. Though I believe you did not think this suitable enough since you've tried to bring my brother into it."

"I can explain!"

"Ah, so you do have an explanation for breaking your promise of leaving my brother alone." No matter how many times she has spoken to Mycroft she never forgets how intense he can get with every word.

Ana, now fully aware of the situation, grabs her bag slung across the backside of her chair and pulls out an envelope. She opens the envelope and sprawls the contents all over the table. Pictures were taken of her walking on the street, watching the telly at home, sitting at her desk at work and so forth blanketed the surface.

"First of all, I want you to explain this. If you always have someone keeping an eye on me, why is there someone taking photos of me from afar?" She says with condescending tone, almost as if she's blaming Mycroft.

"Well… This is quite the conundrum. I'll be honest, I've never seen these, nor have my assets noticed anything suspicious. How did you acquire these photographs if someone is supposedly stalking you?"

"They are left out on my front porch sometime between midnight and first light. No matter how many times I've tried to catch the culprit at work, it's like it magically appears on my doorstep."

Mycroft lets out a subtle chortle under his breath to the term "Magically Appears" as he looks through the pile of pictures. Ana notices that one of the pictures, in particular, catches Mycroft's eye. He begins studying it as if he found something of importance within the photograph. He then folds the photo and places it in his jacket pocket.

"We're done here."

"Hey! What are you…." Cut off by Mycroft getting up from his chair and putting on his jacket.

"You've stated that you were to be kidnapped within 48 hours of the blog post. It's been nearly a week now and yet here you are. With all of these indications, I believe your reasoning behind this entire charade is to get my brothers attention. Whatever ridiculous obsession you have for my brother is to be expelled immediately. See to it that we never have this discussion again for the next time will result in a more substantially grueling outcome."

Grabbing his cane, He begins to walk out of the cafe. Completely shocked at his words, Ana follows after him and catches him out on the sidewalk.

"Hold up! You think I'm doing this to get your brother's attention? You think I'm what? Paying someone to take pictures of me so I can make this fake mystery that your brother will probably find worthy of solving?"

He turns back to Ana with a disapproving scowl.

"I do not know of your hidden intentions with Sherlock, and might I add, this is not the first time I've seen any sort of attempt to contact him. I've seen the letters you've tried to send him. The only reason I haven't approached you with any of this before is because I was under the impression of you having 'feelings' for my brother. But now to create such an intricate, yet flawed, plan to get his attention makes me worry about your mental health."

Appalled by such a comment, Ana turns her back to Mycroft in frustration.

"Just because you're as smart as Sherlock doesn't mean you know me. You don't know the mental torture I've dealt with this past couple of weeks. I have to stay within the public eye just to feel safe. I've hardly slept, and eating has become more of a survival tactic than a luxury since I only do so when I've practically starved myself due to my thoughts. I know you don't care for me. I know you don't care for my words."

She turns back around for Mycroft to see her tear ridden face.

"But I will not stand here and have you degrade me. You don't know what I've been through and you will never have any idea what I do to even feel an ounce of security. So go back to your fancy office with your fancy tea and your fancy pocket square collection. Leave the 'helplessly in love' fangirl to wallow in the corner. And don't you worry about seeing me again because I don't ever want to see you."

Ana spits in front of Mycroft and turns to head back into the cafe. Covering her face, she heads back to the table. Frantically she tries to clean up the pictures and shove them back into the envelope. On the table, she finds a mysterious letter envelope.

"Hello, Ana :)" is written on the front. Turning it around to open it, she's petrified to know what's in the mysterious package. She pulls out more pictures of her in the cafe talking to Mycroft. A string of photos between her in the cafe and her spitting at Mycroft, Ana gets scared and drops the pictures onto the table.

"Excuse me." Ana jumps and turns around ready to defend herself from any sort of danger. The waiter that she had previously spilled the coffee, stood there with annoyance on his face.

"Someone dropped this off for you. I don't know who it was but he said it was urgent."

In his hand was yet another envelope. "Thanks…" she takes it cautiously and turns back to her table. Without hesitation, she opens the envelope to be surprised with a folded up napkin. She unfolds the napkin and reads the inscription written on it.

"221b Baker St. Immediately. - SH"

Sighing with relief, Ana grabs the rest of her pictures and stuffs them into the envelope. 221b Baker St. is all the way across the city, and the quickest way to get there is through The Tube.

(Hey readers! It's Dazzy here, or better known as ForgetMeNot. I just wanted to thank y'all for showing interest in this story because it's been a while since MaterialisingSun and I written something together. This chapter is dedicated to her, however, because she puts up with me in ways unimaginable so please show her some love and follow her since she has many more other projects that everyone will like. I've said too much, I better leave before she kills me. Grunt, out )


	4. Chapter 4: How We Fell

**_(Major apologies for those who viewed the last chapter and saw_** random ** _code. Should be all fixed. Thank you so much readers for letting me know I really appreciate it.)_**

The tube was always a place Ana loved, to see the people come and leave in such a rush reminded her of the younger years of High school, as it were her only form of transportation. The sound of the trains whizzing about brought back the nostalgic feeling of simpler times.

Before the rush of school exams and inevitable ends of friendships everywhere. Ana used to sit on a lonely bench when she was younger and pretend she knew how to deduce them like her oh so clever friend.

For instance, the young teenager sitting about ten feet away gripped onto a letter with such anxious anticipation. The letter was clearly something he has been waiting for throughout the entirety of his life. His face was like a book that Ana could read all too well, perfectly portraying the visual 'should I open the letter? What if she said no to the date? What if she said yes? What do I do if she did say yes!? What do I do then?'.

Closing her eyes she could almost hear Sherlock reprimanding her. "Yet again, you have attempted to tint his situation with romanticism, you are not describing a love story."

Fine, Ana thought. The young kid probably had an acceptance letter in his hands, either he had been accepted into the college of his dreams or he would be working long hours at a fast food restaurant to make ends meet.

At least, that was what went through her mind all those years ago when she held her own letter in anticipation in the very seat she was sat in now. Oh how things change.

Her very first memories were of visiting her father at the university where he worked. She would dream of the day when she too could attend, as a student.

When her father died, the idea was reinforced as the University became the only thing that she could remember him by. Of course, being the daughter of their favorite deceased professor did not award her any favours.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye so as not to make people think she's a stalker, a sigh escapes her lip when his eyes take in the now opened letter.

An overjoyed expression followed by him Jumping out of his seat explains his result in one minute.

He must really be looking forward to working at McDonalds.

 ** _Dear Anastasia Lakely,_**

 _ **We regret to inform you that no records were found of your father Timothy Lakely being employed by Earlton University. Understandably, this means we cannot offer you a full tuition for the class of 1998. However, after much consideration of your application, we are happy to offer you a partial scholarship due to your academic record-...**_

 _Her nails almost pierced a hole in the paper as her grip on the page became increasingly violent. She couldn't complain too much, clearly the letter wasn't a straight copy and paste from their rejection letter templates. They obviously made an effort in that paragraph. Ana begins to wonder if they just threw out all their records of previous favorite employees so they don't have to fork out a free education year after year._

 _Ana had reread that page maybe a thousand times yet the words still had not magically changed. Her mother burnt anything that could remind her of Ana's father so it seemed the university were not the only ones whose records disappeared._

 _"Ana? Have you seen my keys?" Victoria, Ana's older sister yells from the bedroom doorway. Hmm, what to do. Tell her sister that she gave the keys to Sherlock or pretend she didn't hear her._

 _"I stole them, threw them on the roof. Thought you might need the exercise."_

 _Victoria's death glare bores into Ana's soul, trying to seduce that small slither of guilt to rain forth. Unfortunately, her feelings about the letter in her hands eclipsed anything else._

 _"You sound just like him. That… thing you hang out with all the time." Thing? Was that the best Victoria had for me? How is it possible that someone who is clearly blood related to me come up with such a lame comeback?_

 _"You're talking about yourself in the third person again, and now you're describing yourself as a male? This keeps getting better and better."_

 _When she was seven, Ana idolised her older sister and would have done anything to be just like her. She'd even use her old clothes and pretend her teddy was little Ana while she was Victoria. Nowadays, after many years of bickering and sibling rivalry, she wanted no part of her sister in her for all she sees is cynicism and anger. To which she still doesn't understand why._

 _"Maybe that guy you were with this week has them. Keith? No he's the guy from last week isn't he. Can't keep them straight in my head." Victoria takes a step closer to Ana and in that moment she almost begins to fear for her life. "Fine! I left them in my locker at school. I'll get them back."_

 _Her reply was only a few seconds to late, though, as that one step was enough for Victoria to see exactly what Ana held in her hands. With the school emblem shining in the light of the sun, Victoria knew that it was a letter from Earlton University._

 _"What is this?" She yanks the letter out of Ana's hands. Mouthing the words out loud, with complete concentration it's like all of her features decide to go neutral. "Oh. You know… I know somebody who could help you out with the fees.."_

 _What happened to my jerk of a sister out for my blood? How does she know a way for me to earn £17,000 so easily._

 _"Oh yeah, just marry someone super rich and wait till he dies so I can take his fortune and use that to go to college huh? What a brilliant Idea, why didn'tIi think of that? Yeah, no." Apparently my corrupt humor actually cracked a smile on my sister's once angry face._

 _"Ha no. You know the Charltons son? He was telling me how his father just released a massive reward for any information on their daughter Taylor. She was a girl I knew at school remember? It's so strange, they literally just received a ransom note for her, right when they've accepted her as gone._

 _Ana freezes on the spot. Remembering the mini investigation Sherlock put her through almost two years ago. After that night she could clearly recall inquiring about any friends the 15 year old had at the time that would fit the profile of an older boyfriend. Eventually she tracked the couple to a little town a few hours away._

 _A ransom note? More like they need more money to fund their blissful romantic life, or the two have had a mad break up and Taylor Charlton wants a way back into her family's life. Either way she had promised Sherlock when he deduced her continued investigations that she would leave the two be, as so much time had passed there was no need to bring up such a case with the no longer grieving parents. He'd even used the 'If you are my friend, you will drop this' line that melted her heart into a mess of emotions._

 _Maybe things are different now the ransom note has sprung new hope to the Charlton family._

 _"You could convince your… friend to help you figure out what happened."_

 _Victoria would never say Sherlock's name, the mere thought of doing so being enough to make her sick. But it was the thought that counts._

 _"Why are you being so…"_

 _"Sisterly? Kind?" Sighing, Victoria folds her arms "I'm sure you'll bring it down to me wanting my keys back or something. But maybe I genuinely care about you going to university, plus, Taylor was my friend."_

Ana had become accustomed to being lost deep in thought yet still aware of her surroundings, so somehow without managing to walk off onto the tracks or into someone, she had made her way through the station to find the departure times.

It all seemed like a giant maze, looking for the right train to catch. Boarding times change instantaneously once a train departs, making it a bit difficult to really concentrate on the board. Suddenly, a flash blinds Ana from her left, causing her to glance at someone holding a camera.

Noticing that he's been spotted, he bolts through the crowd with Ana in hot pursuit, pushing her way through and almost knocking over people. She sees the camera guy take a sharp left down a flight of stairs and she follows suit. Coming to another set of double stairs, the culprit slides down the rail to get a faster head start. Ana contemplates doing the same but knows she'll probably fall flat on her face so she decides to just run it.

Finally getting down the stairs, she follows him into the metro boarding area. Still within her sight, she sees him inching closer to the doors. Pushing through even more people, she tries to get close enough to grab his scarf trailing behind him. Almost to him, he escapes by a thread as he makes it into the train before the doors closed on Ana. Pounding on the glass, he shows a smug look on his face before taking one more quick picture of her as she angrily tries to pry open the doors with her bare hands. With the picture being taken, Ana decides to take out her phone and try to capture a picture of him, but as she stumbles to find it, the train starts to depart.

Running to catch up, she gets her camera app up. She better snap this as soon as possible because there's three metres away between her and the wall. She points it towards the train, hoping it'll auto adjust to focus and snaps five photos in total. Stopping just in time before hitting the wall, she watches the train disappear within the tunnel. Exhausted and defeated, she looks back to her photos and realises all she has is a bunch of blurry photos which do not show her stalker's face whatsoever. It does, however, show his outfit which consisted of a white buttoned shirt, a grey striped cardigan, a black scarf and a leather satchel slung across his left arm.

Trying to use as much of her knowledge and abilities to think like Sherlock, she studied the picture over and over. Zooming to see if any facial features stick out or maybe any sorts of personal marks like scars or tattoos, she becomes obsessed with cracking this puzzle. After thirty minutes, she gets frustrated with herself and throws her phone back into her bag.

How in the world is she to think like Sherlock when all she can think of is what are the intentions of the camera creep. Knowing there's only one thing that she can do, she walks to her train. Twenty minutes later, Ana finds herself in the last place she'd ever think to be invited to.

Ana looks at the piece of paper she received to make sure she has the right address before folding it up in her bag and looking back up to the door. Determined to find out what's going on, who better to think like Sherlock than the ACTUAL Sherlock. Just one more thing to do.

Knock.


	5. Chapter 5: All This Time

If there was ever a record for staring at a door for an unnatural amount of time, Ana was sure she would have broken it by now.

How would Sherlock react to all this.. He did invite her, after all. She already knew Mycroft would be keeping an eye on her whereabouts so she didn't have long before he would turn up to recount how she promised to 'leave Sherlock Holmes alone'.

But rules are meant to be broken. So Ana raises her hand to knock on the door, before realising that the door was for a flat. Her hand moves to hover over the doorbell, with clear determination to… eventually push it.

"Come on, Ana. You can do this. He's just a man…"

A flash of a memory runs through her head, at his house in the backyard on a grey starless night, his smile imprinting itself as the last memory of how he looked. Nevermind that she had seen his face again in many newspapers. There's just something about going back to a friend that you loved and miss, what happens if you still care about them and they don't feel the same? Or they hate you, leading to your whole world ending. That is why Ana put off ever speaking to Sherlock. That and her vow to Mycroft.

"Ahem… Sorry but…I believe talking to yourself is the least healthy habit." An old woman speaks abruptly, causing Ana to curse herself for not being aware of someone approaching. Thankfully the strange woman behind Ana kept a reasonable distance, hiding her face in a scarf to keep some warmth.

"You've obviously never met a chain smoker." Ana mutters, wondering why on earth this woman had approached her.

"I was on my way to see Mr Holmes. Must be quite a line of cases if we're all the way out here on the street." Ana began to conclude the strange woman was more than unusual. The door was very much closed with no way of knowing what was going on behind it, why would she think there was a line?

"Actually… I-"

"No matter, I will return tomorrow." The woman holds out her hand to shake Ana's. Alarm bells ring in her head but she takes the woman's hand anyway. When the woman brushes past the creak of the door opening behind Ana makes the hair on her neck stand up. This is not how she envisioned meeting Sherlock again, staring at an old woman in confusion. But when she turns around, a new face welcomes hers. A strongly built man with a square jaw, slightly shorter than Ana awkwardly smiles in the doorway.

"Hello… Sherlock started betting how long you would stay down here so I thought I'd…" John Watson, the writer of the famous blog and underappreciated second half of the Sherlock Holmes duo. Or, so he had described himself in several of his blog entries.

"He assumed I would leave, didn't he?" The mere thought hurt Ana, especially since she had been thinking about doing exactly that. She was confident there were times she wasn't so easy to read. "It's nice to meet you… Doctor Watson."

"Please, call me John."

"Oh thank God. As soon as I said it I thought I would be stuck sounding like someone from the dark ages for the rest of my years. You know, the whole 'May I please enter Doctor Watson'" Whether out of amusement or fear for Ana's sanity, John plays along, making room for her to step inside.

"Of course Ma'am." John replied, so, taking a deep breath in, Ana entered. Even if it was a mistake to come here, there was no turning back.

Two voices, Sherlock's and another's flow down the stairs as John leads Ana to their flat, he somehow manages to make just enough idle chat that Ana can't quite figure out who the second voice belongs too. Suddenly a sharp noise is played carelessly on a violin, causing Ana to cringe. It must be someone important if they could cause such a violent noise to play from Sherlock's violin.

"If you are here merely to idle in the stairway, Anastasia, why disregard my orders in the first place." Mycroft's voice announces from somewhere inside the room.

If the noise of the violin had made her cringe, hearing her full name shudder. All the same Ana takes a step forward through the open door, her eyes taking in the unique flat. Firstly noticing a spray painted smile on the wall with bullet holes plastered over it her eyes pass over it to the desk covered in files followed by the face of someone very, very familiar sitting in a comfortable looking chair.

Sherlock's refuses to look at her. Which is probably a good thing since Ana freezes in place as soon as her eyes fall on him. It's hard to imagine in advance what it's like to see someone you cared about again after such a long time, yet they remain somewhat unchanged. He's engaged in an intense staring contest with his brother, neither of them realising how childish they seem to any outsider. Mycroft sits opposite him, umbrella in his right hand, looking poised to leave.

"Take my words into consideration Sherlock, you do know I won't warn you again." With one mere sentence Mycroft stands, pausing as he passes me in the doorway, hushedly muttering to her "I hope you know what you're doing."

Ana doesn't reply, she doesn't want to when she has more important problems at hand, such as the stalker threatening her, or her previous best friend staring at a wall instead of looking at her.

Her nerves are gone at least, forcing her to take those few steps inside.

"Take a seat," Sherlock finally says, still not looking her way yet gesturing to the seat pushed up against the desk. John's face fills with confusion as he sits in the chair opposite Sherlock's.

"Hold on, she's a client now? I thought you said she's a friend?"

" _Was_ a friend John, _now_ she is a client." He finally looks at Ana for the briefest moment before sending a look John's way that he should have known this in the first place.

Why did she feel so nervous in the first place? This is just Sherlock Holmes, Ana knows his ways… kind of. So she sits, resigned to the fact she will only be a client from now on. "Thank you… for seeing me. It's been a long day."

"Would you like a cup of tea?" John asks with a kind smile as Sherlock begins to stare, with a shake of her head the room falls quiet, her eyes locking with his almost copying the previous staring contest between the two brothers, this time less violent.

"Is it normally this awkward when you talk to clients? Not that I'm a critic I just assumed there would be more-"

"Were you expecting us to spend time catching up? For me to shower you with welcome's? I do not reduce myself to such false statements of sentimentality." Sherlock almost glares as he speaks, putting on all the theatricals to show he is not exactly thrilled to be in this situation. "You of all people should know that."

Same old Sherlock...


	6. Chapter 6: That's Been And Gone

Words fall seamlessly from Ana's mouth reciting the past few days like she would recite a well known recipe or poem, yet her mind falls elsewhere, into a long forgotten memory until now of laughter and jokes between Sherlock and herself. She suddenly recalls when life wasn't so complicated and seeing her best friend laugh was more common. Ana's mindless collection of words falters, her mind wandering beyond control instead of focusing on describing the packages delivered to her each day.

"Keep your mind in the present, Ana. I cannot solve your case if you continue to reminisce." Before the thought 'how could he have known that' fully forms in her head he continues. "I know all about the pictures, not long after you sent me your vague message, Mycroft felt the need to taint my day with his presence and continued to update us on your situation."

"You mean you asked him to keep you updated on Ana's safety."John adds comically, quite enjoying the situation while a curt frown immediately forms on Sherlock's face.

"Yes, thank you, John, but I must advise you to put all other contributions aside until after the details of the case is laid before us." Or as shown by his words seconds later, he wished to show off his knowledge. "The facts are quite clear. You have had the opportunity to approach the photographer of your daily packages, inciting quite the chase scene through the tube apparently. Judging by the scuff mark made on your right shoe, the chase did not end in success, although it wasn't a complete failure otherwise a certain wall in the metro would have received quite a beating, not to mention your shoe being in worse wear. No, there was a highlight to your physical exertion that you despise so much, show me the pictures."

Ana doesn't pause to think as she grabs her phone out of her bag, not breaking eye contact with him as she quickly unlocks her phone and passes it his way. A minute ticks by before Sherlock gives the cellphone back to its owner.

"It would have been more effective to catch him on video."

Ana's mouth falls open to reply how she would have as a teen ' _Thank you Captain Obvious_ ' but of course she catches herself before the words even form. "Yeah, I was running down a platform to keep up with the train."

"I am aware." Sherlock mutters, seeming suddenly bored with the conversation as he places his hands under his chin, closing his eyes. "That man is not your mystery stalker."

"Ok…" Waiting as patiently as is possible for someone in her situation, she suddenly felt remorse for all the clients and people he has dealt with through the years. "Are you going to continue or should I start guessing."

John, not knowing how to respond to this unique situation, decides to stand and make himself a cup of tea, a smile forming on his lips when the two old friends fail to notice.

"Private Investigator Andrew Smith. Known in the south for providing proof of cheating spouses and tracking down employees skipping work. Petty work which occasionally coincides with a murder case or two." Pulling out his own cellphone he begins typing like his life depends on it, considering the conversation over.

"That doesn't mean he isn't the one taking the photos!" Losing her cool for a moment, Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

"Look at the camera Ana. The quality of the camera does not match those of the photo's you have received. Additionally the photographer has managed to stay out of sight for a considerable time. Why would he let himself be noticed after all this dedication?" Mockingly staring at Ana, Sherlock continues. "Really, I thought I taught you better than this."

"Oh this is why I should have studied Photography at University! Who would have thought…" At the mention of University Sherlock's eyes turn cold, and Ana has to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying anything else that could get her into hot water. "Wait. How did you get back here so quickly after leaving me that note?"

"What note?" Sherlock enquires with mock confusion, in that moment Ana's heart almost stops. He did leave her that note… right? After a overly long pause Sherlock smirks before continuing "As my darling brother would say, why do all that leg work, no, I got one of the homeless network to keep an eye on you."

"The what network?" Her pulse returns to almost a normal pace, although her capabilities of keeping up are shot out the window.

"My eyes and ears around the city. This particular member had strict instructions to leave you the note if he believed you to be emotionally compromised."

Rising out of her chair, every moment of the last few days caught up with Ana, every letter waiting on her doorstep, every person who had ignored her requests for help, Sherlock included. The past ten years of being without him.

"No. Just no. How many people are following me? Some creep, Mycroft, You! Whats next? It's like I'm the star of The Truman Show on steroids." Noticing the confusion on Sherlock's face makes her pause, "It's a movie from the 1990s about... Wait! I'm angry at you right now why am I explaining-"

A cup and saucer is placed in her hands, filled to the brim with tea that she immediately spills onto the small saucer. John sits down like this is all normal to him. Of course nobody would expect a client to not yell at Sherlock before the case is solved.

" _Why must you infuriate every person who asks for your help?" A much younger Ana asks a prepubescent Sherlock._

" _It helps me to eliminate the boring ones. If they really wanted their case solved, they would endure anything." Ana looks unbelieving at him, a look that from a girl so young pierces his soul. "Fine it's entertaining as hell."_

The memory puts Ana in her place. So she sits down, with the clear determination in her mind not to give him the upper hand. Whether he knows he's a being a pain or not she needs to follow an example from her younger self to roll her eyes and deal with it. She takes a sip from the hot cup feeling immediately calmed.

"So now that I'm emotionally compromised, will you help me?" A now politely smiling Ana enquires with a second sip of the most delicious tea ever made. Although at first taken aback by her complete change of character a small smile begins to tug on Sherlock's lips.

"Did you ever doubt I would?"

 **A/N: galwidanatitud Your wish is my command**


	7. Chapter 7 : I'm Still The Same

" _William Sherlock Scott Holmes! Why is there a teenage girl in your bed!" A shrill voice yells from the doorway, the girl in question having her head buried in his pillow facing away from the entrance to the room, she is immediately awoken by the loud interruption but, out of embarrassment and slight terror, remains completely still._

" _Relax Mother." Sherlock mutters, sitting a few metres away at his desk studying. He flicks his eyes from his book towards his mum, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I believe you will be relieved when I say it's not what you think."_

" _Oh really? Because it looks like my fifteen year old son has snuck a girl in behind my back!"_

" _Hmm. Ok it may be exactly what it looks like." Resigning himself to the fact he will not get a chance to finish his book on chemical reactions to human follicles. Placing the book on his desk delicately he stands, noticing his mother approaching his bed. A wild mess of curly orange hair moves quickly to pull the sheets up to cover her face. "Mother, relax, it's just Ana."_

 _The sheets disappear, a pillow immediately being thrown in his direction. He moves slightly to avoid contact with the projectile, slightly amused with her reaction. "What Ana? Did you just plan on pretending you weren't there all day?"_

" _Maybe!" Ana exclaims._

" _Anastasia! Darling, what on earth has happened to your beautiful blonde hair? No. More importantly why are you in my sons bed?" The girl sitting quietly pauses in her vicious glaring at Sherlock to let tears well up in her eyes._

" _Perhaps we should change the subject Mot-"_

" _I was talking to Ana! Sherlock." Parents! He later told Ana that they were the bane of his existence. She knew this not to be true, otherwise he would not care for them with such urgency or defend them with such honor._

" _Mrs H, my mum… she kicked me out for the night." Stated so plainly one would think this was a normal occurrence for the thirteen year old. Sherlock was almost impressed with the way she could turn on the water works._

" _So... you dye your hair because..?"_

" _Um…" His eyes plead with her not to say it, the words forming in her head becoming as clear as day for someone as gifted as himself, or at least someone who has endured Ana for years. But she just can't help it, making Sherlock Holmes' life hell is Ana's favorite pastime. Everybody needs a hobby._

" _Sherlock did it!"_

"Don't worry, he's just focussing on the case." John whispers, causing her memory to crash down all around her. It was probably a good thing, dwelling in the past could only bring up old nightmares. Turning her attention to the now adult Sherlock, she realises he must be lost in his mind hovel, or whatever he used to call it. Ana could recall him briefly mentioning earlier how he had collected data from Mycroft about her recent activities so he must be trying to figure out why she was being stalked in the first place.

"I know, it's ok. He'll join civilisation again when he finds something." Smiling as a thank you, Ana finishes the last of her tea.

"God, right, of course." Shaking his head with the smallest of grins on his face he almost looks like he could kick himself. "I keep forgetting you've seen all this before, sorry, I've only known about your existence for about an hour."

Ana's face drops, realising her name must not have been mentioned for years until she rudely interrupted their lives. Realising his mistake John's eyes widen. "I mean, I'm sure he meant to mention you, the situation probably just never arose… where he could... Uh…"

Suddenly, Sherlock seems to awaken from the depths of his mind, completely unaware of the disaster he has stumbled into. A look of determination on his face tells Ana he was not as fruitful in his searchings as he wished to be.

"2003?" The uncertainty on her face must be what leads to him groaning in annoyance, "2003, let me refresh your memory. Eight years ago, you were almost twenty? Almost two years after you-"

"Yeah ok, I get it." Ana interrupts before he can spout her life story in front of John. She takes a ragged breath, preparing herself for what her next words would bring. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

Sherlock blinks, registering her words before nodding. "Seven years ago?"

"Still can't tell you.."

"What _**can**_ you tell me from the last ten years?" Before Ana can speak he quickly continues. "Oh, my brother? He employed you for several years after you left your hometown leading to a barrage of confidential work that could risk your life. Undercover work? No that doesn't seem to fit your personality. Field work than. You hate the sight of guns and gunfire reduces you to tears, unless you got over your 'phobia' your work category must fall under another subject. Your phone!"

Sherlock stands excitedly like he's won an award, joy spreading upon his face as his mind completes the puzzle.

"H-Her phone?" John questions, unsure about his friend's sudden attitude change.

"A disposable phone judging by the branding, you can clearly see it's a recent purchase by the plastic protector still covering the screen. So, new phone, in a long line of disposable cell's. The wifi purposefully set to off so it can't connect to free wifi as you wander by. A common trick to avoid someone breaking into your cellphone or laptop, any hacker would know that, or-" His face beams with his knowledge, but Ana still dreams he would go without the flair and dramatics in her case. "Any Network Forensic investigator."

"A what?" John asks, he too, had had enough of the theatrics.

"It's quite simple John, a fancy title that technically means a hacking detective. The full name seems to have more of a kick to it. So, proceeding your departure from our friendship you took my brother up on his offer of a career. Working as a network investigator for the government. You chose a career over interaction with myself. Hmm, he did always seem to like you, god knows why anyone would. Sorry, but I don't work with government employees, except on murder cases."

Ana could have whipped a comeback, or mentioned his brothers insults to her earlier that day, you know, minus the 'feelings for Sherlock bit', but she doesn't. Her brain can't even accept that he now views her as some sort of woman only after the best offer. All she could feel in that moment was her losing his help.

"Do you remember the time your mum found me in your bedroom?" Ana said, fighting back embarrassing tears. "My mother kicked me out. Screaming that I could never be her daughter."

"I don't know what this has to do with-"

"I thought it was because I had blonde hair and not brown like theirs, so I forced you to dye my hair brown, so I would look like her and my sister but when we screwed it up..." A tear slips down her face without her knowledge, of course Sherlock notices though, how could he not? "I'm still that girl Sherlock. I'm still that dumb teenager that you helped dye her hair even though you knew that it wasn't my hair that was the problem. The one you let cry all over your pillow and left orange dye stains on all your favorite towels because you didn't have the heart to tell her that the woman she was crying over wasn't even her mother. I'm that girl, still making mistakes and begging you for just one more favor."


End file.
